Letting Go
by artemis-nz
Summary: Misaki is grieving, but Akihiko is not going anywhere. Usami/Misaki.


The apartment was quiet.

Usami Akihiko sat in his study, a half-written document on the computer screen in front of him. His fingers had been poised above the keyboard for several minutes, although no new words had lined the story for almost an hour.

It wasn't, Akihiko reflected, giving in to the inevitable and preparing to light another cigarette, as though he had run into a wall as far as the new book was coming. In fact, for once he was on schedule. It wasn't even that he lacked the necessary motivation that it took to put pen to paper, as was admittedly often the case. It was just…

Too quiet. The house was too quiet. Or rather, too still.

Akihiko was perfectly capable of writing with silence wrapped around him – he had no need for background noise in order to relax in the way he needed as he had known other authors to sometimes do. Yet today, the silence was heavy, smothering.

Misaki had locked himself in his room.

Not that he had locked the door – Akihiko had already checked, subtly, assuring himself that the handle to Misaki's bedroom still turned all the way around. Strictly speaking, there was nothing preventing Akihiko from going in and demanding an explanation for putting such an abrupt halt to his story's progress. But although there was no visible sign on Misaki's door, Akihiko could read the vibes well enough; they filtered through his consciousness thicker than the smoke he was currently exhaling. Keep Out. Not that he was averse to invading Misaki's privacy when it suited him, but this… this was different. This nearly scared him.

The phone rang, shattering the stillness. Akihiko would have probably ignored it had not been for the fact that he had nothing better to do than snap tersely at whoever was unlucky enough to be on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Akihiko?"

"Takahiro! It's been a while." Akihiko's voice instantly warmed. He had long since gotten over his feelings for Misaki's older brother, but Takahiro remained a close friend, and someone to whom Akihiko could never begrudge for being a part of his life as he did so many others. The sound of his voice in Akihiko's ear made the novelist instinctively unwind a little.

"Listen, is Misaki there?"

Akihiko tensed up again immediately. It wasn't like Takahiro to skip the pleasantries. And there was a note in his voice that cautioned Akihiko something was up.

"He is, but-"

"Could you put him on, please?"

"… Sure." It wouldn't hurt to give it a try. Maybe Takahiro could put a stop to whatever was bothering his lover; as much as Akihiko wished it could be due to his own cause, Takahiro was family, after all.

He left the phone hanging by the cord and paced the stairway to Misaki's room, his footsteps almost tentative. The door was still closed. Akihiko knocked.

No answer. He knocked again, louder this time. "Misaki? Your brother called, he wants to talk to you."

There was no sound from beyond the threshold. Akihiko was about to walk away when he finally caught the soft reply: "I'll talk to him later."

Akihiko had been afraid of that. Takahiro would no doubt understand, but it only confirmed Akihiko's suspicions. Something was very definitely wrong, and while Akihiko was not prone to paranoia, every warning impulse in his body flared up at the knowledge. Not once had Misaki ever turned down an opportunity to speak to his brother; he practically hero-worshipped Takahiro, and had done ever since Akihiko had known him.

Back downstairs, Akihiko picked up the phone. "Takahiro? Misaki's… he's busy."

"… Is that what he said?"

He could never tell a direct lie to Takahiro. "Not exactly." The cigarette, forgotten between his fingers, was trembling slightly. Akihiko gripped it harder and watched the burnt ends fall to the ground. He was so busy watching its noiseless descent that he almost missed Takahiro's next words.

"Has he been in there all day?"

Akihiko ground out the rest of the cigarette, half-used as it was. "He had class this morning, but he's been in his room all afternoon. Takahiro, what's going on?"

"Please don't take it personally, Akihiko. You know, he… he gets like this every year. Of course, normally I'd be there, but now that we're no longer living together…"

It took a second for the halting sentence to sink in, and then another several for Akihiko to respond. Had it been that long already? Hurriedly, he reckoned up the days. Yes, it had. Not quite a year since Misaki had come to live with him. No wonder he hadn't realised sooner.

"Is there anything I can do?"

A low sigh. "Not really. Just… Akihiko, just leave him be. He'll be okay, he just needs some space. I know he'll pull through, he always does. He just-"

"-Hates to worry people", Akihiko finished for him.

"Mm."

He hated this. Could not stand, above all, to do nothing.

"Look, I've got to go, Manami's calling. But could you please ask Misaki to call me back when he's ready?"

"I will. Takahiro, what about you?"

"Me?" Takahiro seemed almost surprised at the question. "I'm fine. But I've got Manami. And Misaki… right now, he doesn't have anyone at all."

Akihiko wasn't offended by the statement as he said his goodbyes and replaced the receiver. How could he expect Takahiro – naïve, oblivious, beautiful Takahiro – to know that Misaki did indeed have someone there for him, if only he would allow himself to be worried over?

There was now nothing hesitant in Akihiko's stride as he made his way to Misaki's room. He knocked again, but this time did not wait for an answer before entering.

Misaki was lying on top of the bed, face down, but he rolled over quickly when he heard Akihiko open the door. Akihiko took him in, all of him, at a glance: muscles pulled taut, face pale, eyes reddened but entirely dry.

He smiled, and Akihiko saw straight through it. "Usagi-san! I told you before, didn't I? I'm just a bit tired, class this morning was really-"

"-Takahiro told me", Akihiko interrupted without preamble. "You'd better start talking. And if you don't want to do that, then you'd better start crying. I know you – it'll never get better until you let everything go."

The smile faltered. "It's not like that. Look, nii-chan exaggerates sometimes, you know how he is. I told you, there's nothing that's- I just need some more sleep, okay?"

Akihiko didn't doubt the latter statement – the circles beneath Misaki's eyes told him more than he needed to know – but like him, Misaki had trouble telling a lie when Akihiko was looking at him like that. And Akihiko had nearly trapped Misaki on the edge of one.

He was avoiding Akihiko's gaze now, a sure sign that Misaki was growing more uncomfortable. "Please just let me sleep, Usagi-san."

The request was simple, and Akihiko was crap at dealing with things like this anyway. Emotion had never been his strong suit; not in real life. He made himself cross the space to the bed anyway. "No."

When Misaki didn't reply, only turning his face further away, Akihiko sank onto the duvet. "I'm going to stay here until I think you're ready for me to leave."

"I'm ready _now_. Anyway, you can't stay in here forever."

"Watch me." Akihiko lay down facing Misaki, stretching his body out until his feet brushed the spragging-board. He wrapped his arms loosely about Misaki's middle, closed his eyes, and waited.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he felt Misaki begin to wriggle himself around, but kept his eyes safely shut as he felt Misaki's breath pass over him. Said nothing, as he sensed more than heard a change in the silence – the slightest altering in the pattern of the air surrounding them. Only moved enough to place a hand in Misaki's hair as Misaki buried himself in Akihiko's chest and began to sob.


End file.
